Day One
by PureWaterLily
Summary: It takes only a second to establish the order of hierarchy. Vague KisaIta.


One hundred and twenty bodies simultaneously fall like bricks.

While Itachi stands still in the town square, Kisame casually struts to each house, opening doors, closing doors, seeking their prey. When the man is found, Kisame slams his sword down on the sleeping body, seizes the scroll, then exits.

"Well," the Mist-nin declares as he trudges back to his partner, "that was boring."

Without a word, Itachi turns around and heads towards the exit gate. When they are out of the perimeters, he will uplift the genjutsu and let everyone wake.

Suddenly, violent, bloody spikes are protruding out of his stomach.

A toothy grin. "I told you, I want some_ entertainment_," Kisame says, as he pushes Samehada deeper into his partner.

Blood trails down Itachi's lips, and his body topples over, before dispersing into a burst of crows. A kunai point touches Kisame's back. "And I want efficiency," Itachi states coolly.

"Then I'm afraid this relationship isn't going to work out," Kisame laughs as his sword sudden swings around. The kunai stabs into Kisame's back. But the damage Itachi takes is much greater, as he distances himself, his hand pressed against his wounded side.

Through the past few months, Kisame has figured his partner out. By far, Itachi is the deadliest of all the Akatsuki...

...as well as the most fragile.

Itachi has incredible power, his offensive devastating, and at the same time, can be so easily destroyed. Brittle as glass, skin that bruise to the slightest touch, bones that can snap to just a little pressure. Every attack against him, Itachi must deflect, counteract, or evade, because if he takes one single, successful blow, he is finished.

Kisame feels such a delicate partner is not befitting of him.

After all, should Itachi ever be taken by surprise, he is finished. Like now, on the verge of collapsing onto his knees.

But Itachi is never taken by surprise.

The genjutsu fades.

Kisame suddenly awakes by the gate of the village, with Itachi calmly exiting, carrying not a scratch nor flicker of dirt. "I took the liberty to eliminate the target myself," he says, tucking away the scroll.

As response, Kisame merely chuckles, uplifts himself, and follows the younger.

One step, two steps, three- his sword falls down-

The genjutsu fades, and Kisame finds himself on a cobblestone path, walking towards the village.

"Partners are indeed excess luggage, are they not," Itachi states stoically, although Kisame senses the mockery and his fist-

The genjutsu fades, and Kisame returns to a cave, sitting before a crackling fire, rain in the distance. Itachi is nonchalantly examining the contents of the scroll they have retrieved three days prior, a list of names with their next targets.

Kisame pretends to adjust his seat on the ground, his palm making contact with the ground. Instantly, a wave of water from the outside comes to flood the entire cave and-

The genjutsu fades.

In the forest, Kisame charges and rips-

The genjutsu fades.

"I have already calculated the number of times you will attempt to kill me, and placed you under a corresponding number of genjutsu layers-"

Skin shreds, and the genjutsu fades.

And again.

And again.

And again, again, again...

An infinite loop.

Kisame wakes up with a start in one of the Akatsuki lairs, instantly clutching his neck.

A face of black and white peers down on him from the ceiling, which does not help to calm the Mist-nin's nerves.

"Nightmare, Kisame-san?" a white Zetsu questions, grinning widely.

"What is it," Kisame grits his teeth, fingers reaching for the handle of his Samehada by the nightstand, fighting hard to keep his pulse under control.

"_A mission on the outskirts of Ame. There's a man with a scroll containing a list of clients who own us a tremendous amount of debt-_"

Deja vu strikes the Mist-nin. "Another one?"

Zetsu stares at him curiously. "What do you mean? You have not been assigned any mission remotely similar."

With horror, Kisame examines his arms, notes a severe amount of missing battle scars, then his Samehada, not nearly the same gnawing size. Then the underground room itself, which, now that he thinks about it, has long collapsed and been abandoned in that one earthquake.

Controlling his shaking, he cautiously questions the plant hybrid above him, "How many years have Itachi-san and I been partnered?"

The white Zetsu blinks. "Years?"

"Yes, how long?" Kisame demands.

"Well... three _days_ has passed since Itachi-san was first assigned to be your partner."

Kisame pales considerably. All those years and locations, missions and vacations, hunts and injuries amounts of nearly a _decade_ of memories. And yet, it is funny how they all now seem fragmented, slowly withdrawing from his mind.

The last to disappear is the sentiment of three years, twelve seasons, of nonstop cooperation between them, before Kisame realizes Itachi is _finally _off guard, asleep peacefully at their inn. And though Kisame has long stopped resenting his partner, quite the opposite in fact, he stabs him anyway. Just to prove a point.

Only to awake with a kunai lodged deep in his throat, Itachi nowhere in sight. This memory is the only one that doesn't seem to fade, permanently planted.

Kisame falls back down on his bed, eyes wide in disbelief.

Then he slams a pillow directly over his head.

"I will be right out," he mumbles into the pillow, and can't help but think no _wonder_ Orochimaru decided to quit this job.

By the time he exits his room, a thirteen year old Itachi gracefully passes by, and they make brief eye contact.

Elongated eyelashes, irises of grey coal, as opposed to the Sharingan-red Kisame has become accustomed to. Face emotionless, yet the lips seem to pull up in a mysterious smile that whispers a taunting _I do not sleep._

Without a word, Itachi continues down the corridor.

As if on autopilot, Kisame obediently follows like a dog, closely behind. Years- or rather, a night- of conditioning makes sure of this.

The hierarchy of power has been established.

His murderous intentions towards the child has long ran dry.

And-

"DAMMIT!" Kisame bellows, waking up from the next level of genjutsu. "I wasn't even attempting anything that time!"

Itachi lowers his eyelids, watching the serene ripples of orange and pink of the lake. Without looking back, he questions, "Then why is your hand on the handle of your sword?"

Kisame realizes it is true. Only, instead of releasing his grip, he withdraws it in one motion and slams down.

When Itachi evades, Kisame's eyes widen, expecting the world to fall apart once more.

But he does _not _wake up again, and Itachi is still there, the edges of his cloak fluttering with the incoming wind from the lake.

"No more genjutsu?" Kisame laughs, containing his amazement. "Guess your calculations were off."

A ghost of a smirk. "There were no calculations. For attacks so slow and predictable, I need only dodge."

"What-"

"The genjutsu," Itachi says, walking away, "was for mere entertainment."


End file.
